


Quivering

by ShinyKipp



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: "Ruined" orgasms, Canon Trans Character, Edgeplay, F/M, PWP, Penetrative Sex, nice, wow there was no suggested tag for that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 05:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12857736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinyKipp/pseuds/ShinyKipp
Summary: Barry’s proposition gives her pause. If he’s wrong, they’ll probably ruin the pleasure of the early evening encounter.If he’s right…She doesn't know what happens if he’s right.





	Quivering

**Author's Note:**

> hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng okay. so.
> 
> In this fic, all genitalia is coded to match the identities of their respective owners.
> 
> Many thanks to Mango (malevolentmango here on AO3) for her fantastically helpful beta read. Check out her stuff if you like OW or Blupjeans!
> 
> (Enjoy the fic!)

Eighty years does funny things to an isolated group of people’s wardrobes. In the Starblaster crew’s case, everyone but Magnus wore Magnus’s shirts, all clean socks came in fistfuls from The Sock Collective, and if something was missing, it was a safe bet that one of the Wonder Twins had it in their dragon’s horde of other people’s garments.

Cozy in her room, Lup lounges in a Magnus shirt she took in cycle five (vintage), a pair of well-loved sleeping shorts, and the holy grail of stolen clothes.

Barry’s denim jacket.

It’s laughably huge on her in all the wrong places. The sleeves fall to her wrists where they rest at Barry’s hands, and her lithe frame swims in the shoulders and back where Barry fills the jacket with his heavy body. No matter how ridiculous it looks, though, it makes the whole world warm and soft, and she loves commandeering the big coat.

She smooths her hand mindlessly over the serged hem and flips through her tattered old novel with the other. She knows this book word for word, and tonight it cannot manage to hold her attention.

Her thoughts instead wander to the lab the night before. The light fell somewhere to the South, but this world’s weird magnetism impedes their algorithm for tracking it. The problem frustrated them both, and after about six hours of physics and math it seemed only natural that they found a reprieve in each other. Her hands worked at the knots in this shoulders, his arms looped around her waist. One thing led to another—her body bunched up in his lap very easily turned into her supine, sprawled over their workspace, crumpling pages of notes trying to find something to hold onto.

Her skin buzzes with the memory of feeling his mouth across her body and his hand between her legs.

Lup puts the book down.

Her shorts are a bit too tight, and the jacket feels a bit too warm.

It smells like him, though. Lup wraps her arms around herself and breathes deeply; it makes her a little dizzy, and a surge of heat shoots from her head to the pit of her stomach.

That settles that, she thinks, and slides her hand down her stomach, pulling the big shirt up and running her fingers along the top of her shorts. Everyone else is playing cards, reading, or researching spooky magic, so she can be free to spend a little time with herself, right?

It’s teasing at first. Barry takes his time with her, so she does the same. The warm denim sleeve drags over the flesh of her thigh as she dances her fingers along her hips, and she’s surprised at the lurch of arousal that goes through her when she brushes the fabric over her clit.

A thought of sarcastic frustration flits through her mind. Never could anyone know that she was getting turned on by fucking _denim._

Her hand teases the tip of her clit before moving to stroke herself. She turns her head and nuzzles into the fabric, sliding the other hand between her legs and murmuring a well-rehearsed spell.

Fingers slicked, she rubs gently around her entrance, sighing softly as she flutters at her own fingertips. It’s an awkward angle, but she’s propped up enough by the pillows around her to slip the tip of her index finger into herself.

The jacket around her is aphroditic, and the warmth makes her think of Barry’s arms on either side of her body, Barry’s chest and stomach pressed against her, Barry’s lips against her neck and ears—she moans softly at the light intrusion and tries to reach deeper.

It makes her wrist ache, but the warm feeling that shudders through her when she finds her g-spot and presses against it makes it worthwhile.

She holds the tip of her clit gently and focuses on her other hand, dragging it in and out and shivering with each push. A second finger slips in with the first, and gods, her heels are digging into the mattress to give her more leverage against her long, slender fingers, and it isn’t _enough._  

Lup mumbles her cantrip again and draws her hand back. Three fingers is a hard press, but she exhales slowly and pushes them into herself. Her whole body feels warm, now, and she tries to think of Barry’s hands. Bigger and stronger than her own, they make her melt around them. He’s so gentle, bringing her to quivering orgasms while he kisses her ears.

He’s gentle, except for when he’s not, and suddenly she’s remembering the night before, his hands planted on her hips, burying himself in her and kissing her breasts. Her hands crumpled so many of their notes before she managed to grab onto his forearms and just tried to keep from shouting every time he plowed into her.

She moans, rubbing at her clit in earnest and gasping at the sensation of being filled and touched all at once—it's just her hands but with the jacket on it's like he’s behind her, enveloping her and touching her everywhere at once.

It’s good, it’s really good, and she’s rocking down against her fingers and breathing hard against the collar of the jacket. A coil of heat is tightening in her belly, and Lup whimpers.

She’s close, and her body shakes with need and fuck, her hand on her clit is _perfect_. She’s about to come to a gasping orgasm when there’s footsteps outside the door.

Lup’s ears rocket forward at the same time as she pulls her hand back, and she falls forward over herself pulling up her shorts. The blankets fly up around her in the scramble, and she manages to make herself decent.

She’s breathless and red and scattered as the door swings open and Barry walks in. He’s reading a rumpled piece of something, but looks up when she nearly shouts: “I cannot believe—why does nobody knock!”

He tilts an eyebrow and looks her up and down. “Oh, I, uh. Sorry, Lup. I didn’t think I needed to knock. It has been, what, eighty years?” He walks over to her desk and puts his reading material down on it. “I mean, it is also _my_ room, kind of, but you know.” His eyes linger on her for just a moment before he gestures at the desk. “I was just rehashing some old stuff and think I found a way we might take into account this world’s weird magnetic fields, and I wanted you to—” He breaks off. “Are you- are you alright? You look a little red.”

She blows out a breath, moving her bangs out her her face with the puff. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, hun. One-hundred percent wasn’t just buttering the ol’ muffin, no sir-ee.”

Gears turn in Barry’s head, and Lup sees the moment where her words click into place.

Barry smiles, laugh lines creasing his bright eyes. “Oh, man, it’s, uh, really good that it was me that didn’t knock and not someone else, huh?” Then: “Is that my jacket?”

Lup stands, her legs loose as she saunters over to Barry. “Well, I’d say that right now it’s my jacket,” she teases, raising a hand and touching her fingers gently to his neck. “Say, Bar,” her tone is tentative, even as her face burns from the slick feeling between her legs. “I know you came in here to do something, something that’s probably actually really important even if it’s super nerdy, but—”

Barry cuts her off with a soft tilt of her chin and presses his lips up against hers. “I, uh, should probably think you look ridiculous, Lup.”

She scoffs and drapes her arms over his shoulders. “I don’t look ridiculous in anything, babe.”

He hums an agreement and kisses her again, rocking onto his tiptoes and smiling like a loon. For a moment, the silence persists. They relax in it, standing close and reveling in each other’s presence. Lup doesn’t think she’ll ever completely understand what it is about him that calms her so much, but she feels her heartbeat slowing as his hands settle against the small of her back and his mouth smiles against hers.

“You know,” he whispers when Lup weaves her fingers into his hair, “I don’t remember what I came in here for.”

She laughs and presses her body close against him. He’s so cute sometimes; she loves how he goes limp against her as she scratches at his scalp, his body soft and pliant in her arms.

Cute easily gives way to something a bit darker when he murmurs against her touch: “So, maybe you can show me what you were up to?”

Lup’s thought drops out of existence and she’s suddenly hyperaware of his fingers under her shirt prodding at the hem of the shorts. Barry’s looking up at her, brown eyes bright and a little bit mischievous. “If you want to, of course,” he adds, shrugging and looking down to the side. His hands reach under the waistband of her pants and palm at her ass. “We could just skip to the part where I fuck you in my jacket.”

Lup’s mouth falls open and her knees falter. “Ohhhh my god.” She feels his hands press a little harder against her, and Barry tilts an eyebrow. “You sexy dweeb.” She takes a breath and continues: “Alright, I’m gonna-I’m gonna lie down before your stupid hot face makes me fall over.”

Barry giggles like he didn’t just say something vulgar and follows Lup over to the bed. Perching himself on the end of it, he folds his legs and smiles. “Alright, well, go ahead.”

Lup steps out of the shorts and throws them at his face. They catch him right between the eyes and he sputters for a moment before he regains his composure and tosses them to the floor.

Lup’s back on the bed just in time for him to see her again: legs open wide and sliding three fingers back into herself with a showy moan. Her other hand catches one of her nipples and rolls it with a tug. She eyes Barry and catches her lower lip between her teeth, exhaling with a whine as she presses against her g-spot and gropes at her chest.

His face is red instantly, and he shifts a bit as she rolls her hips against her hand. “Fuck, Lup,” he mumbles and moves one of his hands. She thinks he’s about to touch himself, but his hand hangs partway between his knee and his groin for a second before he lets it fall to the side, touching nothing except the soft mattress.

That makes her smile, and she drops her hand to palm over her clit with an arch of her spine. She looks good and knows it, letting her head roll to the side and her golden hair cascade out over the pillow. “Ah, Barry,” she keens, flexing her wrist and catching the edge of the jacket in her mouth. His scent surrounds her, and she feels her eyes flutter shut as her body thrums with lust.

She keeps her eyes closed until she hears movement. She looks and sees Barry dropping onto his hands and knees between her legs, eyes full of heat gazing up at her, and he kisses her knee, her thigh, the back of her hand where it’s grinding down against her clit.

“So, uh,” he pipes up, voice cracking. Barry snakes his arms under her thighs and pulls her close to him, “last night actually got me thinking.” He nips at her leg, snapping her attention down to him. “Have you ever—Have you ever come more than once? Like in one sitting.”

Lup sees him thinking, his brows ever so slightly quirked downwards. He’s making eye contact with her, too, which is pretty impressive given the set-up. “No,” she grumbles a little bit. She knows from late-night drunken discussions in the common area that both Lucretia and Magnus could get off more than once per encounter, and the knowledge sends a pang of bitterness through her.

Barry nods. “Because, you know how there’s that edge? That whole point-of-no-return?” He clears his throat. “I think...” His face is bright red, and Lup smirks at seeing the man who knows her better than almost anyone, the man who sees her at her most intimate, her most vulnerable, stumble through words. “I think that if I stop you there, it may, uh, get rid of that refractory period. I might be able to, uhm, make you come more than once.”

Lup turns the idea over in her head. Her body still thrums with warmth, and her hands rest over her hip bones, ready to dive back into pleasure. Instead of diving right back in, Barry’s proposition gives her pause. If he’s wrong, they’ll probably ruin the pleasure of the early evening encounter.

If he’s right…

She doesn't know what happens if he’s right.

“Yeah.” There’s a bit of lag between her mouth and her brain. “Yeah, alright, let’s give it a try.”

A wide smile splits his face, and he tugs his glasses off to toss them onto the desk. Lup follows his lead. His jacket is warm and soft, but with the real deal settling down between her legs, she shrugs it off to tug her shirt over her head and throw it onto the floor.

“Alright, okay, nice,” Barry says, eyes roving over her naked form, and he presses a kiss to her clit.

She’s only half worked up after all the talking, but he laves his way over her, sweet and soft, and she feels her body light up again.

He nudges a fingertip against her, and breathes out with a sigh. “Wow, you really weren’t messing around, were you, Lup?” He presses into her, rubbing against her g-spot immediately and sending heat coiling down through her body. “You’re so wet.”

Lup touches herself again, rubbing gently between her legs as Barry pulls her a little closer. She means to respond, she really does, but suddenly he pulls her up against him, and Barry licks at her entrance, sending sparks flying across her skin and a moan tumbling out of her throat.

He works her open, occasional mumbles of their cantrip falling on deaf ears as Lup’s body burns. Barry’s going so slowly, fanning her at a pace that keeps her smouldering, and she thinks she’s losing it as he slides another finger into her, the warm drag of him inside of her making her shake. It isn’t too often that he works her open so slowly, so thoroughly, and it’s hardly necessary with how she fucked herself on her hand just ten minutes earlier. But it’s hot and slow and _grueling_ as he alternates between pressing against that sweet spot and kissing and teasing at her with his tongue.

“Okay?” he asks, pulling his mouth away from her rim, and she sees he’s still watching her. His face is focused and intent even with his lips wet, and Lup forces a nod.

“Okay,” he says, and wraps a hand around her clit, rubbing deftly and hard and _there,_ Lup’s mouth tries to form the word but instead just gasps. He’s rocking his hand against her g-spot and rubbing his thumb over the tip of her clit.

“Yes, Barry, yes,” she pants out, hips grinding down on him and it’s so good and it’s finally enough, she grabs at the sheets and arches off the bed—

—and she feels cold, his hand drawing out of her and the other dropping from her clit to her thigh.

Lup gasps out a curse as climax takes her, but it’s different, shivering and weak and not enough anymore, she feels her body shuddering and _leaking_ over her bare stomach. It’s _not enough,_ something’s missing, and before she can come down all the way Barry’s hand is on her again, tugging sharply at her clit and she winces with a pained noise, sensitive but not spent.

“Wow, Lup,” he sighs, face flushed and eyes wide as she squirms underneath him. “That looked nice.” His tongue darts out over his bottom lip and he glances down at his hand where it works her over. “You’re still hard, too.” A breath. “Is this okay?”

Her body reels, she stumbles through attempts at words, and she feels him loosen his grip. He leans down over her, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Should I stop?”

“No! No,” she gets the words out and tries to grind up into his hand. “No, I just, I need to come, it’s too much, I need to come. Barry, please.”

He’s a centimeter from her face and his lips part gently. He’s gorgeous, Lup realizes for the millionth time. His eyes are intense and he’s looking _into_ her, she thinks, seeing what threads he can tug on to unravel her more or sew her back together as he pleases. A shiver runs through her at the look, and Lup wonders which stich he’ll tug out next.

“Babe,” he murmurs against her lips, kissing her far too softly for how hard he pushes his hand—three fingers this time—into her. “Gods, I mean, Lup, are you sure?” He giggles, _giggles._ “I, uh, didn’t think it would be that intense, to be honest with you.”

He needs to shut the hell up, Lup thinks, grinding her hips down and keening at the pressure. One of her hands knots in his hair and he yelps. She’s probably being a bit rough, but she doesn’t care; she doesn't care at all right now, as she crashes their lips together.

Their teeth knock together and Barry makes another noise, but fuck, his hands are still on her and in her and she wants more, she needs more.

“You sure?” he asks, and pulls back slightly.

“Yes,” she says, brain catching up to the words leaving her mouth, “fuck me, Barry.”

He grins, wide and bright, and kisses her one more time, far too sweetly for what his hand does as he fucks her with it, shocking her hips up against the bedding and winding her up ever tighter.

Lup wonders, with a faint tinge of worry and a whole lot of anticipation, if she’ll snap right in two.

He’s gone for a split second, then, and Lup doesn't think she’s ever seen anyone undress that quickly. He falls back onto the bed with a curse as his foot catches in one of his pant legs, and she can’t help but laugh a little bit.

It didn’t matter if he made her a quaking mess, nothing could stop this man from being so uniquely _Barry._

He smiles too as he crawls back over her, lifting one of her legs to rest on his shoulder while he plants the other hand by her head. She reaches down between them and grabs him to rub against her entrance, and he bites his lip with a sharp breath. He’s painfully hard for sure, and Lup watches his face as she slides him into her, slick and pliant from the preparation.

His eyes flutter, his breathing stammers around her name as he pushes deep into her, and her toes curl at the sensation.

God, it's so _good,_ and she’s whispering that to him, mouthing and nipping at his ear as he drops his head to kiss at her neck. His pace is languid, and she’s about to ask for more when he touches her again.

She burns, she burns and writhes as he handles her and fucks her and she’s there’s, she’s ready and she feels her body clench—

—and he pulls out of her.

And she shouts and comes, a choked gasp at the loss of sensation, a mournful keening as her body shakes and revolts at the loss.

No more, need more, can’t take it, need it, please, enough. _It’s not enough_ _._

Barry pushes back into her, hands on her hips and he fucks her in earnest now, dragging her limp body against him as he whispers platitudes into her hair.

It still feels good, and after a minute she starts trying to lift her hips against him, but her body doesn’t move.

“It’s okay,” he says, and she doesn't know if he’s responding to something she said or not, but his arms are winding around her back and pulling her onto his lap as he sits up. “I’ve got you, Lup.”

He moves her gently, rocking up into her. She would call it lovemaking if she weren’t shivering in his arms, feeling herself melt into him with every quaking fiber of her being.

His hands pet through her hair, his kisses cover her neck and shoulders, and he pulls a little harder, pushes a little further...

And Lup comes undone.

It’s a weak noise that erupts from her chest, harsh and gasping as she comes, finishing completely, and arches in Barry’s arms. Her breath comes in ragged pants, and sparks dance with tingling satisfaction across her skin as she unravels, threads pulled loose.

He murmurs out a curse and she feels his hips lock up against hers, but everything is warm and fuzzy and detached as she’s removed from his lap like a ragdoll and laid on her back.

Lup feels the brush of Barry’s magic against her and things feel much less sticky and sweaty.

She maybe mumbles a word of thanks, but nothing is in focus. She wonders if she’s still awake when she feels a straw against her lips and a hand between her shoulder blades.

“Drink this, Lup,” Barry’s voice tells her, and she nods with gratitude. She’s not sure when he raided the kitchen for this cycle’s supply of juice boxes, but she sucks it down in a second.

She feels his arms around her and they lay down together. There’s a minute of silence before he asks, “Are you with me, Babe?”

Reality comes back slowly. Lup feels the bed under her, strong arms wrapped around her middle, soft skin pressed against her back, and the warm breath of her lover against the back of her neck. “Yeah,” her voice croaks out. “Yeah, I’m with you, Bar.”

“You did amazing,” he says. There’s a kiss pressed against the back of her neck. _“You’re_ amazing, Lup.”

“I know.” She smiles even though he can’t see it. Snuggling back, she feels the cottony malaise of sleep tugging at her consciousness. “You’re not half bad yourself, Barold.”

He scoffs. “Thanks, babe. Glad you think so.”

Lup turns around in his arms, and the softness in his eyes surprises her. He’s smiling lazily, and the teasing bite in his words has no mirror in his soft features.

“I love you,” he breathes, and she feels the truth of it in her very core.

“I love you too.” She uses the last of her energy to lean forward and kiss him with all the sweetness she can muster. “Goodnight, Barry.”

“Have a nice nap, Lup.”

She closes her eyes, and everything is warm and soft.  


**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the TAZ Writers discord for their encouragement. Y'all are great.
> 
> I'm on tumblr at Kippdom!


End file.
